


Blood and Ice

by HMSquared



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Christmas Eve shenanigans, First Kiss, M/M, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall, at least a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 04:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16612340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSquared/pseuds/HMSquared
Summary: Peter throws Wade through the car window after they get stuck in a blizzard, and Wade’s healing doesn’t work fast enough. Spideypool.





	Blood and Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The One With Only One Bed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16602056) by [NotEvenCloseToStraight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight). 
  * Inspired by [Snow](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/432398) by subseeker. 



> I've been feeling really salty these past few days, so a Spideypool piece seemed appropriate. Plus, you need to be salty when writing Deadpool. Enjoy!

Peter shifted in his seat, his knees moving to the height of his head. Red sneakers pressed against the leather, he slowly rocked back and forth, taking in the situation.

“Come on!” Wade shouted, nearly crushing Peter’s eardrum. Wincing, he hugged his knees and closed his eyes, trying to keep warm. Unsurprisingly, Wade wasn’t helping.

They were in a car. Peter was in the backseat, beanie pulled over his ears to keep them from freezing. Wade was in the front seat, crushing his boot to the gas pedal in a fruitless attempt to make the car move. The heater was running at full blast, and when Wade slammed his elbow into the dashboard every few seconds, the air got cut off, making Peter cold, then hot. It was, to put it politely, miserable.

“Peter,” Wade groaned, taking his foot off the pedal, “Can you go outside and check to see if we’ve gotten anywhere?” Rolling his eyes, Peter unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, wincing when snow smacked into his shoes.

They were driving back to New York for Christmas, and, lo and behold, a blizzard had rolled in. As he grazed the top of the rental car door with his head, Peter wished for the fourth time that evening he had listened to Wade. The Merc with a Mouth had suggested they stay in Miami, but Peter had stupidly demanded Wade rent a car so they could drive home. Surprisingly, he hadn’t said anything about it.

The wheels spun pathetically in the snow as Wade pounded on the pedal again. The engine had started conking out fifteen minutes ago, them barely having time to pull over and turn up the heater. Shaking his head, Peter placed his hands on the back of the car and pushed. It helped little.

Stepping back, he squeezed the red beanie on his head, pulling away when another gust of wind hit. As Peter watched, the beanie tumbled off his head, scraping the ground before taking to the sky again, flying off into the white, hellish sky. Grinding his teeth, Peter screamed obscenities into the air, them also getting lost.

Wade heard Peter scream, he heard the door to his immediate right open but ignored both. Sighing, he tried the pedal one last time, letting go when his foot slipped and crashed into the wall in front of him, generating a light (but still obscene) cluster F-bomb.

“Agreed,” Peter snarled, slamming the door. Wade rose his eyebrows and leaned back, smiling. 

“I take it Mother Nature’s still being a bitch?” Peter flipped him off in response. “Someone’s cranky.”

“Thank you for not busting my balls this entire time.” Peter’s hands shook, his friend noticing. Not even bothering to roll his eyes in sympathy, Wade took off his gloves and passed them over. Attempted to, anyway. “I don’t want them.”

“You don’t have a healing factor, and if your hands freeze off, I’ll be stuck carrying the luggage,” Wade joked, biting his tongue after instantly realizing how stupid he sounded. “Now, for the love of God, take them.”

“I’m good!” Peter shouted, throwing his hands in the air. Wade looked up at the sky, silently asking the narrator why she was making the Webslinger so angry. He didn’t get a reply, not yet at least.

“What the hell does that mean?” Wade murmured. Peter looked over and scoffed.

“Talking to that voice in your head?” Wade didn’t say anything, watching as his friend clutched his shoulders, shivering.

“Peter, I’m not letting you die, not on these nice leather seats. Take-” Wade’s words were cut off when Peter suddenly threw his arms out, pushing the Merc with a Mouth through the car window behind him. The last thing Wade did before focusing on the crash was scream at the narrator. She deserved it.

Peter didn’t move, not at first. Wade was a mutant, after all, he would heal. But, as the wind whipped outside, snow leaking into the car, Wade groaned, the sound not getting lost. Hearing it, he opened the door and stood up, expecting to see his friend clutching at the car and his side.

What Peter got was a nightmare. Wade was lying in the snow, shards of glass embedded into his chest, blood staining the ground. The worst part, which Peter recognized recently, was his healing factor wasn’t working.

“Wade!” Peter ran over, kneeling to examine the damage. Most of the glass was small, but a huge shard had managed to dig itself into Wade’s side. The Merc with a Mouth was biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain. Trying to remain calm, Peter said quietly, “Wade, calm down. Please calm down.”

“It hurts…” Wade muttered. 

“What hurts?”

“My side…” Staring at the huge shard, Peter bit his lip.

“Wade, I’m gonna try to pull the shard out, okay?” Wade opened his eyes, staring at his friend.

“Go ahead. Just be ready if I try to kill you.” Smiling, Peter placed one hand on the shard, took a deep breath, then began to pull.

Wade winced, hissing through his teeth, but didn’t actually scream until half of the shard broke off in Peter’s hand, the other half jostling in his chest. Luckily, the scream got lost in the wind, Peter trying not to think about what would happen if someone found them.

When Peter pulled again, Wade let out a gasp in pain, tears forming. Knowing something was very wrong, he stopped and asked,

“Wade, what’s wrong?”

“It really hurts…” Wade was staring at the shard in his side, the tears sliding down his face. “I hate this, but I understand why it’s happening.”

“What do you mean?” Peter had stopped questioning Wade’s weirdness a long time ago, even if it occasionally got on his nerves. Now, however, he was scared.

“I…” Wade shifted slightly, generating a bad wince.

“Easy!” Peter grabbed his shoulder, staring into the Canadian’s eyes. Smiling lightly, Wade whispered,

“This is an example of wonderful timing, but I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I…” Wade winced again, though from emotional pain this time, not physical. “I love you, Peter.” Peter rolled his eyes, causing him to shake his head. “No, I mean it. This isn’t me being an ass, just listen. We may bust each other’s balls sometimes, but that’s why I love you. You make me laugh, and I…” Wade’s voice started to fade.

“Wade?” His mouth opened again, ready to hit the Webslinger with a ‘I love you’...but it didn’t come. Instead, Wade’s breath slowed, he stopped shaking….and just like that, he was gone.

Peter’s eyes widened, tears forming. Then, hands shaking in anger, he pulled the other half of glass out of Wade’s chest, not caring that it didn’t matter. Sobbing crazily, not thinking straight, Peter screamed at the sky again, feeling like he was about to explode.

The feeling subsided after a minute or two. Sniffling, Peter looked down at a dead Wade, not expecting to see it in the slightest. He was the indestructible one, the person who always bounced back. Why did he have to die  _ now _ ?

He suddenly realized why his heart felt empty. Taking a deep breath, Peter clutched Wade in his arms and leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on the Merc with a Mouth’s lips.

Peter’s eyes were closed, fighting back more tears, so he didn’t see Wade begin to move under him. His eyes did snap open, however, when he heard the assassin laugh,

“Enjoying yourself, pervert?” Peter pulled away, icy tears flowing, convulsing horribly. Seeing the terrified, confused look on his face, Wade said, “Peter, it’s okay! It’s just me.”

“How…?” Peter shook his head. “How on Earth are you alive?” Wade smiled.

“My healing finally kicked in. It just needed a kiss from you.”

“So...this narrator you’re hearing...wanted you to die so I would kiss you.”

“She knows I like you, and that a tiny part of you returns the feeling.” Wade’s eyes narrowed. “Is she right, Peter? Do you actually like me?” Peter sniffed, nodding.

“It’s exactly why I kissed you in the first place. I felt bad about not having the courage to do it before.” Smiling, Wade rose a hand up and brushed snow from Peter’s hair. He laughed, generating a smile from the bloody man below him. They kissed again, Wade asking after a few seconds,

“Peter, I love you, but can we get out of the cold?”

Wrapping themselves in a blanket they discovered in the trunk, Peter and Wade peacefully fell asleep, Peter with his head on Wade’s shoulder. The snow plow found them thirty minutes later, and once they got back to Wade’s, the two friends curled up on the sofa. Being in each other’s company was the only Christmas present they needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!


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